


Bath Time

by smithy_of_words



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Kiran Trevelyan, Mentions of Violence, sweet fluff with vague mentions of something steamier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:32:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4474226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithy_of_words/pseuds/smithy_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josephine interrupts Kiran while she has a bath.<br/>They drink wine, share feelings, and giggle.<br/>(What's better than gals being pals?)<br/>A short story that just popped into my head at night.<br/>Non-beta'd. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bath Time

Kiran Trevelyan stared at the wall without seeing anything.  
To her new chambermaid, it appeared as though the Inquisitor was staring through the stone to some distant mountain range.

_Like she’s sad,_ she thought… _But it’s not my place to say anything._  
The silence was a bit awkward, but not tense.

  
   Finally, it was broken.  
“Your bath is drawn, Your Worship. Let me know if it pleases you.”

  
   Kiran started, as if she didn’t realize the young elf was still in the room.  
“Ah, yes, of course. Thank you, Yvette. You’re too kind.”

  
   Yvette’s face flushed, pleased at the praise.  
“No thanks are needed, my lady. Shall I stay and pin your hair?”

  
   Kiran smiled to herself. The Orlesian elf probably was thinking of doing something intricate with bows and flowers—maybe even feathers, if Leliana’s stories were to be believed.  
“No thank you, Yvette. Although it is kind of you to offer your help, I think I will bathe myself tonight.”

  
   The maid left with a curtsy and a nod, “Very good, my lady. Please call for me if you need anything.”  
Kiran smiled softly and nodded, and began removing her armor after her door was closed.  
She placed her bracers, pauldrons, greaves, boots, and chainmail out on a large piece of silk near her trunk, to be put away neatly later.

  
   The mage turned to the full-length mirror opposite the large washing basin and tub that had been brought in for her use.  
Her eyes drifted over raised scars, still fresh and red on her dark skin, and she skimmed her fingers over them absentmindedly; the last battle had been hard on everyone, but she had let her barriers slip-up, and took several hits from a large mace before Cassandra pierced the enemy’s heart with her blade.

She still remembered the vacant look in the man’s eyes and shivered.

   Lady Vivienne had been able to stop most of the bleeding and pain, but Kiran was left with scars on her abdomen and sides; healing magic has its limits, after all.

  
   Kiran broke out of her dazed state as she remembered the bath, drawn into the present by the pleasant smell of the elfroot and lavender oils Yvette had placed in the water.  
Gritting her teeth to brace for the pain, she lowered herself slowly into the warm water, exhaling sharply as it covered her new markings.  
“Keep it inside. Show no pain. Show no fear. You are a rock—a Trevelyan. First of your name…keep it inside…”  
Kiran suddenly felt like a child again, hiding in a storage cupboard from the First Enchanter as a new mage in the Circle.  
That young girl had held a paper to her chest with the words her mother had written her in farewell--a benediction and a warning—and recited them over and over like the Chant of Light.  
Even as an adult, she remembered the words, and could say them as easily as breathing.

  
   She heard quiet steps up the wooden stairs, and a murmur of voices.  
Then the large oak door opened, the hinges moaning with age.  
Kiran covered her breasts in an attempt at modesty, turning a bit red.  
“Yvette, I’m almost done!”

  
Someone cleared their throat.

  
   “I am sorry to you interrupt you, Inquisitor, I just…thought you might enjoy some company.”

  
   “Yvette?” Kiran twisted her head to look over her right shoulder.

  
It was not Yvette.

  
   Instead, Josephine Montilyet stood there, wide-eyed and pressing a hand to her mouth in shock.  
Kiran’s scrambled wildly and quickly grabbed the large drying cloth that had been placed by the tub, throwing it over herself.

  
   “I’m terribly, sorry, my lady!” Josephine covered her eyes, “Yvette thought that you had finished bathing. I never would have come in, otherwise. Maker, please forgive me!”

  
   Kiran giggled nervously, standing up and nearly leaping from the tub, cloth still pulled around her.  
“No, I understand. I was hardly making any noise. It’s understandable.”  
She babbled and dug around haphazardly in her trunk for a tunic and underclothes.

  
Josephine noticed the cloth begin to slip and turned to the door, “I will come back later if--”

  
   “Please, wait one moment, will you?” Kiran felt desperate all of a sudden, as if it was of the utmost importance that the ambassador stayed.  
The inquisitor threw her small-clothes and tunic on, and practically ripped her trousers in her haste to get dressed.  
“There. All better. Was there something you required?” Kiran walked around Josephine to speak to her face-to-face, hair sticking out in all directions.

  
   The ambassador’s face still was flushed from embarrassment, “No, my lady—Kiran. I just finished writing some letters earlier and thought I might come by to speak with you.”

  
Kiran gestured for her guest to come in, pulling out a chair for the woman.  
“You wished to discuss a diplomatic matter?”

  
  Josephine smiled, accepting the seat gracefully, “No. Truthfully, I just wished to share your company. I hope that was not too bold, my lady. I should have sent someone to inform you of my presence earlier. My humblest apologies…”

  Kiran sat opposite her lover on the large Orlesian bed that Vivienne had picked out for her the last time they were in Val Royeaux.  
“I see…well, as startled as I was, I am pleased to see you. And there’s no need to be so formal, Josephine. With you, it’s Kiran.”

  
Josephine’s eyes twinkled, “Yes, my—yes…Kiran. I did not mean to catch you in a state of undress, however, I assure you.”

  
  Kiran stood and turned to pour some Antivan wine for the two of them from the decanter on her desk.  
“I understand. There’s no need to apologize. Although…,” the Inquisitor paused, handing the small glass to Josephine with a grin, “I can’t say I minded all that much. Just let me know the next time you plan to arrive, and I can prepare adequately.”

  
The Antivan sipped her wine quietly, “Yes, well…I…ah, will have to consider that.”

  
  Kiran’s belly shook with laughter at the awkward phrasing of her ambassador.  
“I thought you were meant to be the eloquent one, my dear. It looks as though I have the upper hand. Did your etiquette training not prepare you for such bold statements?”

  
  Josephine smiled to one side, bashfully, “Not quite so bold, Inquisitor. Although, I do know many ways to speak using a folded fan. You would have thought, considering how often I was tested in school, that I would have attended balls with such etiquette every weekend. Honestly, I think Madame Janvier truly thought we would never meet a suitable match if we failed to master her lessons.”

  
  Kiran finished the last of her wine with a gulp, placing her empty glass on a bedside table.  
“Well, you managed to meet me, didn’t you?”

  
Josephine put down her wine as well and moved to sit down next to the mage, her face suddenly losing the playful nature of the previous moments.

  
_Oh, shit_ , thought Kiran, looking down at her lap, _I’ve gone too far._

  
  Josephine placed her hands softly on Kiran’s face, gently turning it toward her.  
“Yes, I did. And I would give up all the fêtes and tiny cakes if it meant I could meet you all over again.”

  
  Kiran’s eyes prickled, tearing up at her words.  
She rubbed them with an awkward chuckle.  
“I’m… so sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. That just…I…”  
Josephine smiled warmly and pulled a small lace handkerchief from her pocket, wiping Kiran’s tears away.

  
  The two sat in silence for some time, Josephine’s hands stroking Kiran’s back in comforting circles.  
The inquisitor sniffled, wiping her eyes and nose furiously.  
“Well, it’s safe to say that I completely ruined whatever mood we had,” she smiled bitterly.

  
  Josephine just stared at her and shook her head, leaning in to press her lips to Kiran’s forehead.  
She whispered against her skin, “No, my love. It’s all right. You are perfect. This is…perfect.”  
Kiran grinned a watery smile.  
“What did I do to deserve someone as good as you?”  
Josephine laughed, “Well, who says you aren’t good enough for me? Only a fool could think such a thing.”  
Kiran shoved her playfully, cheering up a bit, “Well, I guess that makes me a fool then!”  
“Let’s see just how much of a fool I can be!” She grinned, ticking under Josephine’s chin.

  Josephine guffawed, swatting Kiran’s hands away until they both flopped back on the bed, gasping with laughter.  
Kiran curled up on her side, wincing slightly, and placed her pinky finger out, “Okay, Lady Ambassador. I think you won this round.”  
  Josephine did the same and locked her picky with Kiran’s in a childish handshake.  
“Oh? And what is my prize? I, the heroine of this story, already have the girl.”  
Kiran’s eyes twinkled with mischief, “Well…I can think of a thing or two.”

  
   Josephine quirked an eyebrow in question, and then she realized what the mage meant.  
“I…would not object to anything you could come up with, my love.”  
Kiran giggled, gently pulling her tunic over her head slowly, “It seems the wine has made me bolder than I thought.”  
Josephine sat up, paying close attention to every inch of skin that was revealed.  
“As it has me…”  
Kiran made a show of undressing, looking at her lover’s face and sliding her trousers off bit by bit, and shimmying a bit for effect.

  
   Finally she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and was about to remove her small-clothes when she saw Josephine’s eyes filling with tears.  
She stopped and embraced her softly, “What’s wrong, Josephine? Am I going too quickly? Did I do something wrong?”  
And then she looked down and saw what the woman was looking at—the new scars.

  
  Josephine covered her mouth in shock, pressing her fingertips gingerly to the newly raised skin.  
“Oh, my dearest one…I read that you were injured, but I did not realize. I never thought…Who could hurt you so?”  
Kiran’s heart ached to see her so upset.  
“Hey…” she said gently, wiping the tears from Josephine’s cheeks, “Hey…it’s all right. I’m here. I’m fine.”  
Josephine’s brow furrowed, “Did I hurt you before? I wasn’t thinking. I am so sorry, my love. Please forgive me. Are you all right?”

  
  Kiran smiled reassuringly and ran her fingers through the woman’s hair.  
“I am just fine. Just a few marks left here and there—nothing to worry yourself about. Lady Vivienne healed my wounds as no other expert healer I’ve met. In time, even these should fade greatly…but…I did get carried away.”  
Kiran sighed, pressing her lips to Josephine’s in a quick peck, “As much as I would love to shower you with affection, I think that may have to wait for another night, dearest. I do think we have more of that wine, however. We could finish it off, and I could read to you, if that’s acceptable, my champion.”  
Josephine wiped away the last streaks of tears on her face and smiled at Kiran’s joke.  
   “Well, that will have to do as a consolation prize. But I shall be making a formal complaint, however. I will demand reparations at a later date. Hm…chocolates perhaps…”  
She had a mischievous look in her eyes, and brought her lips next to Kiran’s ear to whisper.  
“…maybe we can eat some…or perhaps you could wear them.”  
Kiran’s face flushed, and she laughed with nervous excitement, “Ah…if only I didn’t have these damn wounds. Well, you know, I am going back to Orlais next week…”  
\---  
  Outside in the hall, Yvette’s ears burned bright red as she pressed her head to the Inquisitor’s chamber door.  
She couldn’t wait to tell the scullery maids and that archer in the tavern. This would make for the best gossip, ensuring she got extra leftover cake for a solid week!  
She gleefully skipped off down the hall.


End file.
